Page 37 of Stick Break (Boston Bucks #8)

Heads turn as I pass a few shops. Odd, since no one has paid much attention to me before.

I tug the brim of my ball cap lower, hoping to keep a low profile, then step into the real estate office.

The cool air inside greets me, along with the jingling laughter of a middle-aged woman wearing a smile almost as big as her hoop earrings.

Her bracelets jangle as she gestures for me to take a seat.

“What brings you in today?” she asks, head tilting ever so slightly as she ends the call she was on. Recognition dawns in her eyes, despite my best efforts at laying low.

“I’m here about Marta Conrad’s cottage,” I say, getting right to the point. “Just down the road.”

Her eyes widen, clearly intrigued. “Beautiful property. We actually had an offer on it last week, but Marta turned it down.”

“Sheturned it down?” I blink. “Why?”

“They didn’t have the right vibe,” she says with a knowing smile, as if she’s done this dance with Marta before. “She wants to sell it to someone who’ll love it. Really livein it. Not just toss it on Airbnb and call it a day.”

“She showed me around yesterday,” I say. “We talked for a while.”

“Well, that’s a good sign,” she says, clearly encouraged.

“Betsy Callahan vouched for us.”

“Us?” she echoes, eyebrows lifting.

“My…” I hesitate just a beat too long, and then force the word out, steady and sure. “My fiancée.”

The word lodges somewhere in my throat. It’s not a lie. Not really. Maybe not officially, but in my heart, it feels true.

She’s the one.

Now I just have to make her believe it too.

She claps her hands, bangles jingling like wind chimes. “Howlovely.” She opens a file and begins pulling out documents related to the cottage. The next half hour slips by in a blur of signatures, figures, and official nods.

Once were done, I stand and hesitate. “Can you please keep this between us.”

“The Conrad’s have to know,” she teases.

I laugh. “Of course. It’s kind of a surpise for my fiancée. I’d rather her not know.”

She nods. “I can let Marta know that. I can’t guarantee that she won’t tell Betsy. Those two are pretty tight.”

For some reason I’m not worried about Betsy spilling any secrets. One thing I’ve learned since being here is that she’s good at keeping them. When I finally step back into the sunlight, it feels like something irreversible has shifted. I’ve put in an offer. On a cottage. WithCharleyin mind.

Damn, it feels good.

I head back, eager to wake Charley with a kiss, or more. As I move through the sleepy town, I catch more eyes on me than usual, recognition flickering in their expressions. I tug the brim of my hat lower. My phone buzzes. My heart jumps, hoping it’s Charley.

I swipe across the screen. “Hey.”

“Well, nice to hear from you too,” Roman chuckles.

“Sorry. I thought…” I pause. “I thought you were someone else.”

“Oh yeah?” he teases. “You got yourself a hot little number down at the beach?”

I laugh. “Actually… yeah. But don’t call her that.” Before he can say anything, I continue with, “I can’t wait for you to meet her,” knowing that’ll get his attention.

I hear a squeaking sound, and can picture him sitting up a bit straighter. “Dude?”

“You’re really going to like her.”

“Tell me everything. Don’t leave anything out.”

A deep laugh rumbles from my chest. “You’re worse than Elias’s grandmother.”

“Gabby,” he yells. “Come here, you need to hear this?—”

“It’ll have to wait. I’ll tell you when I get home next week.”

“Dude,no. You’re killing me.”

As I pass a man walking his dog, he throws a lingering glance my way.

I duck my head. “I have to go. I’ll catch up with you later.

” As he groans, I end the call. When I reach the cottage, I half-expect to find Charley on the porch, coffee in hand, guitar on her lap, humming something soft and sweet.

But the porch is empty. I check the time and a strange tug pulls in my gut, a niggling that I think is trying to warn me.

But of what?

I unlock the door and slip inside quietly, just in case she’s still asleep. The house is silent, save for the rush of water behind the bathroom door. I head toward it and try the handle. Locked. My stomach drops. She never locks the door.

I knock. “Charley? I’m back.” The water shuts off abruptly. I wait. Then knock again. “You okay in there?”

Silence. What the hell is going on?

I’m just about to knock harder, maybe even push the door open, when I hear soft footsteps on the tile. A second later, the door opens, and there she is, towel wrapped around her. She smiles, but t it doesn’t reach her eyes.

“Hey,” I say softly, brushing my fingers over her warm arm. “Everything okay? You locked the door.”

“I was alone,” she says.

A pause. A beat too long.

“Didn’t you see my note?” I ask.

She blinks, then slowly shakes her head. “No. I must’ve missed it.”

I cross to the coffee table and hold it up. She reads it. “I didn’t want to wake you. Thought about putting it on your pillow, but I saw how peaceful you looked.” I glance past her to the bathroom vanity and spot the coffee mug. “Maybe I should’ve left it by the coffee maker.”

She laughs, but there’s a hollowness to it. “I guess I just get nervous being alone,” she says.

That… doesn’t feel quite right. Is that really it? Or is there something she’s not saying? She couldn’t have overheard my call with Lyra. She was asleep. And even if shedid, it wouldn’t mean anything. Not really.

“You’re not in California anymore, Char,” I remind her gently.

“You’re right,” she replies, though her voice is quiet. Too quiet.

My phone pings and I glance at it. “It’s Roman. I was talking to him earlier. I guess he must have forgotten to tell me something.”

I step into the kitchen, and look back at her. “More coffee?”

I find her scanning the counter. “No groceries?”

Groceries. Right. Shit. I meant to grab some. I did, after all, leave a note telling her that’s where I’d gone. But then the cottage, people recognizing me, and Roman…

Her eyes narrow just a little, her shoulders pulling in. “Rip?”

“Right. I got sidetracked.”

“Roman?”

“Ah, yeah.”

Her shoulders tighten, and I realize exactly how that sounded.

Like a lie.

…and in a way, it is.